wounds to heal and lives to change
by V. Sourweather
Summary: Harry wishes he could go back to the days when everything was easier. [Slytherin!Harry and Ravenclaw!Hermione; Written for IWSC]


_Summary:__ Harry wishes he could go back to the days when everything was easier._

_Rating:__ T_

_Warning:__ Mentions of bad injuries; AU: Slytherin!Harry and Ravenclaw!Hermione_

_Disclaimer:__ Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, and nothing belongs to me. I don't make any money out of this story._

_.:._

_Written for:_

_**[IWSC - Round 9]**_

_**School:**__ Durmstrang_

_**Year:**__ 7_

_**Additional restrictions:**__ Write for __Shadows Rain Down__ \- (pairing) Harry / Hermione, (AU) Slytherin!Harry and Ravenclaw!Hermione_

_**Theme:**__ Ophiuchus (Slytherin traits: manipulative, seeking knowledge, smart)_

_**Prompts: **__[main]__ (quote) "You do care, you care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."_

_[additional]__ (dialogue) "If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I would be holding a galaxy."_

_(setting) Astronomy Tower_

_**Word count (without the A/N):**__ 2,539 words_

* * *

_**wounds to heal and lives to change: **_**Harry Potter and Hermione Granger**

Really, if there was something to say about him, it was that he never had been afraid of _that_. Losing someone he cared about. He had already lost so many people… his parents, his uncle, his mentor. But he had known, deep inside of him, that something had happened to her, and fear had flooded him like never before.

It had been stupid, of course, letting her do what she thought was right. He had known since the beginning that she would be hurt somehow, and yet he hadn't succeeded into convincing her not to do it, for once. He felt like he hadn't even tried though, and there was a strange sensation, almost like guilt, clawing up at his throat.

When the Weasley girl told him what he suspected, he simply nodded, not even bothering to talk to her and try to comfort her. It wasn't like him; he still had his beliefs, and they would probably never leave him. The only one he had put his prejudice aside for was now lying in a hospital bed in St Mungo's, probably surrounded by her friends.

"Potter," the Weasley girl called out to him.

He turned towards her, raising one brow, and she sighed a little.

"I'm sorry. I really am," she apologized. "But you know, at least she's alive. That's more than anyone can ask for during these times."

He quirked an eyebrow and looked intently at her. Reading people had always been his strong suit; then it was easier to manipulate them. But right now, the idea didn't even cross his mind, and he simply said honestly, "You look like you're speaking out of experience, Weasley."

A shadow of a smile passed on her lips, and she turned around before she told him over her shoulder, "Who knows, Potter? But you certainly aren't the one I'll confide in if I was." She stayed silent for a few second, and then continued, "You should go and see her. She's not even awake, but at least it'll prove you're better than you let on."

She left before he could answer her, and all he could think about was how scared he really was. Going to see her would mean, in a way, admitting to her injuries. Admitting that she could very well die from them.

It was the first time he cared for a girl as much as he cared for her, and he wasn't ready for everything that came with it. He thought (and it had been a naïve thought, unworthy of a Slytherin) that maybe loving each other would be enough. He thought that there would be no pain, that he would manage to make her stay with him. He hadn't expected her to enter this stupid war, and to bring him alongside her.

When she had founded Dumbledore's Army just so that they could fight back (it had been a year after they had finally gotten together, he could remember that clearly now), he had avoided her for a long, long time. And when she had finally convinced him to join her stupid war, because without him, of course everything was already doomed, he had felt… torn. Torn between his beliefs, instilled in him after he had been mistreated by Muggles for so long that it had deeply changed him, and his feelings for her, which told him to go and fight by her side.

He had known there were risks. After all, there were always risks in a war, and that one wouldn't be an exception. It was a miracle that they had as much time as they already had, and he was grateful for it, really. But truthfully, all he wanted right now was to get back to the way it was in Fourth Year, when she had been the shy, courageous Ravenclaw to ask him to the Yule Ball. He hadn't known, then, why he had accepted, but he certainly hadn't expected this evening to be the best one he had ever had for a long time.

And now, looking back at what they had, even if it was complicated because he really couldn't manage to get along with her too serious (or too crazy, depending on the point of view) Ravenclaw friends, he wished he could erase everything. He wished he had control over time. He wished he could create a spell to turn back to those happy days. He wished…

He straightened his back and a cold smile passed on his lips. He knew exactly what he needed to do now, and even if it could take a long while… it would be worth it.

* * *

He was watching her quietly. She was laying in her hospital bed, and he almost couldn't see her skin. They had covered the healing burns with bandages, just so that she wouldn't look horrible to anyone who looked at her.

Her eyelids were closed and unburnt, and she was murmuring something in her comatose state, something that might have been screams, had she been able to speak properly. The doctors had told him she would probably never be able to speak normally again. Too much damage to her vocal cords, they had said.

"You've finally come, Potter," someone observed quietly.

He didn't turn around. He knew perfectly well who was behind him. Draco Malfoy, one of his best friends really… And their friendship hadn't even been deterred by the discovery of their feelings for the same girl. Draco had never told him, or her for that matter, of his feelings, but it had been clear as crystal that his best friend really cared about her. His parents, however, had already chosen the life he would lead, and she certainly wasn't a part of it, with her Muggle heritage and all the things she fought for that they didn't believe in.

He, unlike Harry, had pretended to follow his parent's footsteps (not that Harry had any to follow, as he had parted ways with the path they had chosen the moment he had been sorted into Slytherin). He hadn't entered Dumbledore's Army, hadn't let himself be fooled by a girl's words. And perhaps he'd been right.

But right now, as they both gazed upon her motionless form, he realized they were both the same.

"Did you come before?" he finally answered.

Draco just shrugged and remained silent.

"Her friends are always there, aren't they?" Harry continued.

His friend hummed in response, and they both remained motionless, just as she was.

"Why don't you go in there? I mean, really in there?" the blonde boy finally asked. "You could, you know? You were a part of their stupid Army. The same one who got her into that much trouble. I'm forced to stay back there. I was fighting for the wrong side of it all."

"It wasn't the wrong side for you, Malfoy. It was just the path you were doomed to follow."

"Because you believe in destiny now?" he asked him derisively.

"I didn't say that. But it's not like you actually could walk away from the life your parents had chosen for you, Draco. I guess the good thing about my parents being dead is that they didn't get to choose my path for me."

"Oh, please. If your parents hadn't died and you weren't placed under that… family's care, we all know you would have been sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin. Really, it was all about your bitterness and your thirst for power and revenge. That's why you excelled in our House. It's just like Hermione, you know. I still think she would have been better sorted into Gryffindor. It's her who's chosen to fight in the first place, instead of staying hidden behind her books. Me…"

"You would have made a perfect Gryffindor, Draco," Harry sighed to the other boy. "I don't think you realize the amount of courage it takes to stand up to your family like you have when she got hurt."

"Yeah? Well, it came too late for her."

His friend's shoulders sagged a little under the weight of his guilt, and he continued, "You know, Potter, you don't have to pretend."

He stared at his best friend, eyes wide. It's not as if he had been pretending. Since he'd been with Hermione, all he had done was _not_ pretending. So he wondered what exactly his friend meant by that, and he asked him to clarify.

"We're supposed to pretend, to put on masks," Draco explained. "That's what us Slytherins do. But… I'm tired of pretending, Harry."

"Pretending…?" He trailed off when his friend's icy blue eyes met his emerald ones.

"You do care, you care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

His piercing gaze met Harry's one, and he felt like he should intervene and tell the blonde boy that he was wrong and that he wasn't pretending… But that wouldn't be the truth at all, he realized, so instead, he said, "Only if you stop pretending too, Draco."

The blonde boy nodded shortly and then looked at Harry's hand, which had been tucked away in his pocket since he had first seen him.

"What do you have in there?" he asked curiously.

"A way to make it right. I've made two vials of this, and it will… Essentially, it will create an alternative universe of my choice. You can have one as well, if you want to."

For a few seconds, Draco looked like he was considering it, but then he stared at the hospital bed and remorse showed itself in his eyes.

"I don't want it. I can understand why you did it, Potter, but I don't want it." He stayed silent for a few more minutes and then looked back at his friend. "Have you thought about it? Through and through?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess it is goodbye after all, my friend," Draco said.

He smiled at him gently and extended a hand for him to shake. Harry wondered why his friend wasn't trying to stop him in what he was trying to do, because there were always risks playing with time and dimensions and they _needed_ him, but he probably knew that it was a lost cause.

He turned on his heels and walked away from the blonde boy and his girlfriend, hoping that he was going to find her again on the other side.

And when he drank the potion that night, just before going to sleep, it really felt like he was swallowing ashes.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, he only saw the stars and felt the cold seeping through his bones, and he sat straight up. He was back in his Hogwarts uniform now, the Slytherin tie hanging loose around his neck.

"Potter," he suddenly heard from his left, and he whirled around to see Hermione Granger, her familiar tornado of brown hair and her impeccable Ravenclaw uniform. "Must you really disturb me all the time when I'm trying to get this right? You know Astronomy is not my favourite subject, and you're still standing her while I'm trying to do my homework seriously, and you_ know_ it's impossible when you're around!"

He couldn't help the grin on his lips. He had succeeded then. He really had created a potion capable of creating a thousand of alternative universes in his head!

She took his grin the wrong way, however, because she stood up and smacked him on the side of the head with the book she held in her hand. He tried to remember if this had ever happened before, and he couldn't find a single recollection of it in his mind.

"You are an exasperating friend, Harry Potter!" Hermione taunted him. "I swear to God, I could throw you off the Astronomy Tower when you're behaving like your Slytherin self!"

He hadn't listened to the last part of the sentence though, for he had stayed focused on the "friend" part. So he had created an alternative universe where he had to conquer her all over again… He wondered if something was wrong with him, especially since in this reality, Hermione didn't seem inclined to a relationship with him, other than friendship.

He stood up as well and creeped closer to the border of the tower they were on. He looked down at the grounds, spreading out far below them. They were on the Astronomy Tower for sure, and he thought distractedly that he should really mind what he was doing if he didn't want to end up _really_ thrown off the Tower. He had always been aware of Hermione's fiery temper, and that was why he so often wondered why she hadn't ended up in Gryffindor instead. Her love for books and studying had probably won over her courage at the Sorting.

"Listen, Granger," he finally uttered, all the while telling himself that he shouldn't, that it was too early. "I have something to ask you, and…"

"If it's related to Astronomy, you already know I can't help you. Especially since I just smacked you in the head with my book."

She had a little smirk on her face as she sat back down on the hard ground of the Tower, and he sat down as well, gazing intently at her. Her smile quickly vanished when she turned to look at him though, and he understood why because his gaze was unfaltering.

"Let's talk about the stars, alright?" he suddenly asked her.

She almost burst out laughing, but when she understood he was serious, she lost her smile and acquiesced, "Alright."

"If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I would be holding a galaxy," he whispered, leaning closer to her.

She stepped back a little and considered him for a few seconds, before laughing earnestly.

"Are you trying a new pick-up line there, Potter?" she asked teasingly.

He frowned almost immediately and shook his head.

"Then what are you doing? You said we'd talk about the stars, Potter. We're _not_ talking about them right now, quite obviously."

"I _did _talk about the stars," he retorted immediately, a scowl on his face.

She had always had this… gift. She was able to infuriate him and please him so much at the same time, and really, if she refused right now… He would have lost her forever. And he couldn't let his chance pass, so he continued, "I made you fall in love with me once. I can do it again."

"You're crazy, Potter," she repeated, but he was able to discern that note of uncertainty in her voice.

It was almost like she was trying to remember something, and he looked at her, letting down his mask.

"Alright, say that it was an attempt at a new pick-up line," he told her. "Would you still agree to go on a date with me? Just a single little date? Even if my attempt obviously and miserably failed, I might add."

She looked confused for a moment, she really did, but as he wished for her to say _Yes_ more than anything, she finally whispered the word, and he decided that really, this alternative reality wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
